Can't Take One More Day
by See Through the Mist
Summary: Sometimes, people just can't take one more day. This time, that person is me. Challenge accepted by Call Moi Crazy.


This is the Can't Take One More Day challenge. Basically, whenever you feel the need to, write down a personal story of yours. Maybe change the names and upload it here for everyone to see! Just, whenever you feel down, or need to just let everything out, know that you can share it with us. With me. We're family.

And, well, sometimes, you just can't take one more day. This is in a poem like format; the poem part in italics.

You can take whatever you want from what I have written. It does not bother me.

But I want no pity.

-RMS

BTW: To comply to the FanFiction website rules, think of this in the view of Liechtenstein.

* * *

_My eyes hurt. __My head is splitting._

I scrub at my eyes again, the burn never fading as the light of dawn seeps into my bedroom. The pounding of my head matching the pace of which I bang it into the wall, in hope it will go away. It does not and the rest of my body follows it lead; setting my body in aching pain. It is not sharp, nor is it focused in one place. It is an ache that settles into my bones and leaves me only to think, for moving makes me gasp for breath I do not have.

_ I wonder why I'm not special. Why I must keep my expectations so low, just to not be disappointed in the end. That, even when something good happens, it does little to change my mood._

I think about the past. How little I knew about the world and how my view has changed. I was so naïve and I still am. I have been forced time and time again in to disappointment, everyone always surpassing me in every subject. Keeping your values low helps dull the pain when that sting of rejection burns your skin. Sadly, it also keeps my skin think and layered, so that each sting can never go deeper than the one before it.

I am so focused on awaiting those stings, I do not notice the balm.

_ I don't want to go back. I hate it there. I feel so uncomfortable. Like I'm slowly... tearing, little by little, my skin right from my bones. I fidget just thinking about it. My stomach does not agree with me. No one else must feel like this; only me._

I have moved time and time again. First from my childhood home, of which I have no memories but pictures. Next is the house that everyone wanted, such as was the norm. I grew up there, and yet never felt peaceful. My family broke apart, breaking my heart in the process and we moved yet again. The first year was torture, but as time went by, I finally had a place I could call home. But, of course, we only stayed 3 years. March the 18th would have marked the 4 year anniversary.

I am sadden by that. We had everything planned out before the recent of moves. And now, none of it matters.

My new home. I place I must call home, but never do. I have been here since late November, and yet I still feel empty inside. The stares of others, they know I do not belong there. I am too different. Yet, I squirm where they cannot see me, and try not to flinch when their stares boil the flesh at the back of my neck. I shift now, just thinking about it. Is it wrong to feel this way? I do not know.

_And so, that leads me to question: Why am I the only one?_

I feel like the only one. Am I though? I stop to think about it sometimes, but then again, I try not to get my hopes up too quickly.

_I feel sick. My eyes stopped hurting, though. I suppose that is good, but the pain will sear hot on the back of my eyelids once more when I close them. My body aches. My shoulder burns. My fingers throb. My knees shake from gravity trying to force them down. I can't fall asleep anymore. I'm tired but I cannot succumb to weariness._

I wonder if the pain I feel, the weight I feel, is all in my head. If so... what do I do? So many question with no answers. Such as the world we live in.

_My mind is tired. My body is tired. My very being; my soul is tired._

Are you tired? Do you also wish to just fall asleep to the sound of nothing and wake up without the weight of death looming above your head? I wish for that many a time; yet, I am a coward to pain and cannot force myself to do it.

Maybe I should try again? Perhaps this time it will work...

_ So why am I still awake? Am I in Hell? Forced to spend my days in mundane agony, boredom and disappointment seeping through my mind? To relive my boring life, as being tortured in the usual way would have given me at least something to focus on? Maybe that is what this is. That I am being tortured and that these bursts of pain are from the sting of the devils' whip, the barbed wire poking from the ground I am forced to kneel upon, the pins slowly being punctured into my eyes._

Such an imagination, wouldn't you agree? As I sit here now, writing this phrase, a small dry smile tugs at my lips. My eyes are empty, I can feel it. I suppose if what I write is indeed true, then I wonder what these short periods of rest are. What could they be?

Perhaps it is better to just not know. But, then again, I've always been too curious for my own good.

_But I am still able to feel such desperation for something. Something familiar in a way where I can just hold it, whatever or whomever it is that can make me feel secure and warm. Though I am terrified of death and of dying, it is not the act of doing so what I am afraid of. It is the pain._

I just wish for a companion. One that will make sure I am loved correctly, not in the way my family showed love.

My mother showing praise to my elder brother, leaving me alone. Ignored.

My sister basking in a new family, shutting out the one she had for the one she made.

My brother, showing contempt for my existence, never showing me happiness and takes every opening to cause me pain.

My father and his kisses, his touches that made me love him when I was younger. Now I am happy he has moved on, as I feel dirty just thinking about the man.

Do not think me otherwise. If I found a way to kill myself now; to take a poison that would drain the light from my eyes and feel no pain while doing it, I would take it in a heartbeat. No pain and sweet surrender? No gift is greater than that.

_It is the memories that will flash before me, showing me that my life was meaningless. That I will know I will finally be released out of the beautiful yet retched arms of Life and into the scarred yet loving arms of Death. That I will know those things and still a tear will find its' path down my wrinkled face as I will close my eyes for a last time, feeling that same heated sensation when they shut._

I will await the day when I am old and fragile. I know I will live to be an old woman, because where would the fun be otherwise? I will happily be waiting for my heart to finally give out. And still, I know I will shed a tear as I look around at the empty room, no one to see me as I waste away. Just in death I will be alone as in life.

Nothing can change that.

_This is nothing but ramblings from a young girl who seems to think she bears the weight of the world on her shoulders when it is probably nothing more than regular teenage bullshit. But, still, it does not account for the fact that both she and I feel this way. That, even when you truly bear no weight, it does not mean you do not feel it._

She and I. Two people in one.

I think it is time for me to introduce myself. My name is Rebecca.

And I am the second soul inside this one body.


End file.
